


Walking with a Ghost

by thekingofcarrotflowers



Series: Closer [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Parenting, Budding Love, Canon Trans Character, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Halward Pavus' A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingofcarrotflowers/pseuds/thekingofcarrotflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's crush for Krem is only growing, but now he has the added weight of his past to deal with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, Dorian & Krem's interactions are a bit overshadowed by Dorian's struggling with his father/his past, but their interactions are still important!!

It had been a long day. First, one of Leliana’s crows had shit all over the book he’d left open in his alcove. When he tried to yell up to the birds, cursing them for their life-threatening mistake, the mages had begun to shush him. When he swore at them, Solas began to huff and hem below, and he’d ended up quietly grumbling to himself as he tried to salvage the innocent book. Not long after, the Inquisitor showed up in his alcove, looking rather somber. Instead of having the time to listen to Dorian’s complaints about the location of the spymaster’s headquarters and how it had no right to be above a library, they came to present Dorian with a letter.

  
The seal was unmistakable, his family’s crest pressed into the red wax. He’d been hesitant to take it at first, eyes going wide. No matter how far he went, no matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to get away from them. Anger bubbling in his chest, wishing he could just live his own Maker-foresaken life, he’d snatched up the letter and poured over it. He’d been unduly mean to the Inquisitor, who was his _friend_ and had only been the messenger. The alternative had been dragging Dorian to Redcliffe with no prior knowledge of the situation, which was what his dear father and the good Mother Giselle wanted. He silently whispered a curse for the both of them once the Inquisitor left, their attempts to calm Dorian falling flat. The worry and dread in Dorian’s stomach balled up, making him feel sick. He gulped down the panic, fending off tears more than once at the thought of his father’s men waiting for him in the tavern, clubbing him over the head and dragging him home. Really, it wouldn’t be entirely beyond his father to have people snatch him up, kidnap him just like that had —

  
No. _No._ He didn’t want to think about that now. That was something from the past, something Dorian was trying desperately to leave behind him. All the pain and disappointment and heartbreak of the his youth was behind him, left up north, far away. But now, it was following him to the barbaric south, somewhere he had foolishly thought might be safe from his family’s reach.

  
After all that, the only reasonable option seemed like heading to the tavern and getting drunk enough to forget about the letter and his role as the family disappointment for the night. It had worked before, it would work again. It was even going to be worth the pounding headache that came with Cabot’s terribly strong swill. He took a pit stop at his room, freshening up. The moisture in his eyes had made his kohl smudge the smallest bit, his nervous hands had taken some of the style from his formerly perfect hair and mustache. Looking less than perfect wasn’t an option, even when his insides fell utterly torn apart and disheveled.

  
Thankfully, when he arrived in the tavern, it was already in full-fledged celebration mode. Dorian had no way of knowing exactly what everyone was so excited about tonight — a good game of Wicked Grace, or an especially horrid pun from Bull, or one of Sera’s successful pranks. It allowed him the cover to slink into a dark corner of the tavern and order an entire bottle of fire whiskey from Cabot. It might mean he’d have to hold off making a payment on his loan from Mae, but she would understand such things. Maybe he could even get Josephine to send her something nice, owe the Ambassador a favor down the line. It didn’t suit him to be another person’s debt, but he _needed_ to be drunk enough for everything to fall away for a night.

  
As Dorian drank, he glared at those around him. Everyone seemed so carefree, so comfortable with who they were. Sera had no reservations to voicing her interest in the female gender and all of her crude thoughts about it. Bull laughed loudly at every joke, flirted wildly with the barmaids and the soldiers alike, especially the redheaded ones. Krem held himself with confidence, easily corrected anyone who used the wrong pronouns to address him, had a group of friends that rallied around him. How had he ended up so fucked up?

  
The memories were welling up now, each one deserving of another shot of whiskey. Spending all his coin in the brothels of Minrathous after he’d been thrown out of Alexius’ house, all his past lovers he’d try to turn to fed up with the childish, desperate man. Being snatched out of someone’s bed by his father’s guards, getting his nose broken and his magic snuffed out in the process. The last straw before he fled south, someone else’s blood splashing warm against his skin, his father insisting it was for his own good. Feeling defeated, he slammed his forehead into the table, wrapping an arm around himself.

  
“Hey, Altus,” Krem’s voice cut through his thoughts. Hesitantly, Dorian picked his head up from the table, squinting at the man, “Cabot said you bought out the fire whiskey.”

  
“Help yourself,” Dorian shrugged, gesturing at the almost-empty bottle with his ringed hand, “I’ll just drink some of Cabot’s swill when this is gone.”

  
Krem shook his head slightly, sitting down across from the other man. Slowly, Dorian sat up, surprised that Krem willingly joined him. Ever since he made his peace offering, Krem had been much friendlier than before. That didn’t mean a whole lot, but it mean Krem at least nodded in his direction, spoke a few fleeting words to him. Even those small moments, the slight quirk of his lips into an almost-smile and the sharp teasing Krem was known for made Dorian’s heart throb, scolding himself for his boyish crush on the man.

  
“Ruin another pair of your dragonscale boots or something?” questioned Krem, pouring himself a shot. He poured another for Dorian, sliding the glass over to the man.

  
Dorian chuckled darkly, “Something like that.”

  
Krem’s brow furrowed, seeing the hurt in Dorian’s golden eyes, “Sure you can get another pair when you and Ma’am make your way to Val Royeaux again.”

  
“Some things aren’t so easily replaced,” Dorian muttered, looking down at the shot in his hand.

  
“We aren’t talking about boots anymore, huh?” Krem raised his shot, and Dorian mimicked the movement. They both downed the drinks, Krem making a slight face as it burned all the way down, but Dorian was long past feeling the heat of the alcohol.

  
“Krem, can I ask you something?” Dorian asked, his eyes looking glossy. Krem wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol, or if tears were welling in them. He decided to give Dorian the benefit of the doubt.

  
“Don’t think I can stop you,” Krem shrugged slightly.

  
“How did you survive in Tevinter? I mean…” Dorian shifted slightly, looking uncertain as he tried to find the right words. He knew pieces of Krem’s story, the fact that he was born with the equipment one usually associated with a woman, snuck into the army and had to flee when he was found out,  “It tore me up inside, having to try to pretend and put on face just to make my family happy. It wasn’t worth it. Slumming around wasn’t exactly pleasant, either, but being able to be myself for a few brief moments was something. Eventually, everyone I knew but Felix and Mae severed ties, and ….” He shook his head, playing with his rings and avoiding looking Krem in the eye.

  
Krem shrugged slightly, a pang of sadness for the man welling up, “It was always a struggle for me, too. Wasn’t exactly easy to have meaningful relationships in the army. If I slipped around the wrong person or they somehow guessed, I would have been shit out of luck. It was even harder to get any, made things too risky. Was kinda inevitable someone found me out, I guess.”

  
“Was it worth it?” Dorian asked quietly, wondering if the pain he couldn’t see to shake was worth all the trouble, if he shouldn’t have just given in to prevent all of _this_.

  
“Of course,” Krem said, sounding more optimistic, “Got away from that shithole, wound up with the crew, and now I get to be a big hero in a real army. Things are different down south, Dorian. People aren’t uppity prudes like back home. You got a chance here.”

  
Dorian’s face relaxed at that as he managed a small, sincere smile, “Thank you, Krem.”

  
Krem nodded, starting to stand. He snatched up the rest of the bottle of fire whiskey.

  
“Your payment,” Krem said, taking the bottle with him, “Plus, I think you’ve had enough. Go to bed, Dorian. Things might look a little different with some rest.”

  
Dorian nodded, waving Krem away. The man rejoined his friends, glancing back at Dorian. Feeling rather wobbly, Dorian stood, made his way to the door.

  
“Need some help there, ‘Vint?” Bull called over, grinning, “Think I got a man or two I could spare.” There was a knowing wink, a jerk of his chin in Krem’s direction.

  
Dorian rolled his eyes, “I’m more than capable of making it to my room, thanks. I don’t need any of your unsavory lot helping me out.”

  
Dorian’s gaze fell on Krem briefly, the man giving him a small smile and a nod, before Dorian headed out the door.

 

\---

  
Krem was right. The morning left Dorian feeling different. He didn’t feel better, _exactly_. It was hard to feel good with a throbbing pain in your head and your mouth tasting like the underside of a boot. However, as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind didn’t wander to his father. Instead, he thought of deep brown eyes the color of warm, rich coffee, of small smiles across the tavern, of reassuring words exchanged over shots of fire whiskey, and he thought that maybe Krem was right about something else. Maybe he did have a chance. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dorian cursed himself for expecting the meeting for going any different, for giving himself any hope that things would be okay. There’d been the half-hearted attempt an apology for the magister and there’d been tears before Dorian left the tavern. The conversation was lackluster, his father still not quite understanding why Dorian was so heartbroken over everything. He kept insisting he was trying to make things better for Dorian, was trying to help him avoid a world of hurt later on.

  
“Love is a foolish thing, Dorian. It’s a part of fairy tales and bad romance novels,” Halward had scoffed, shaking his head sadly, “Besides, another man could never give you everything you crave. Think of all you’re going to have to leave behind for this kind of … _life-style_.”

  
Dorian mulled his words over as they rode back to Skyhold, wondering if his father was true. He tried to think of any happiness he saw come from relationships. It all ended in heartbreak and other messy options. He remembered seeing Maevaris with her dwarven husband, had marveled in how _happy_ the pair had been to just enjoy each other’s company, but then the man had been taken away from her and Mae seemed awfully lonely ever since. He scrubbed at his face, trying to keep the tears from flowing again as he walked between the Iron Bull and Sera, and decided that his next loan payment to Mae would have to wait in order to drink himself into another stupor. This one preferably would end up leaving him hungover for the next week or so.

  
“How you holding up, big guy?” Bull asked, noticing Dorian’s jaw clench.

  
“Just fine,” Dorian answered, eyes trained on the horizon, voice sounding detached.

  
“Look, howzabout I go back there and give your dear old dad an arsefull of arrows,” Sera suggested, pulling one of them from her back and wagging it towards Dorian.

  
Both of them had overheard the conversation and had seen Dorian huff out of the tavern teary-eyed and red faced. Bull had showed some award-winging self-control, though his neck tensed noticeably, one of those bulging veins ticking with pent-up anger. He had held Sera back at hearing Dorian’s voice raise and then crack, Dorian able to make out the elf’s distinct stream of swears through the wall of the tavern.

  
“That’s unnecessary. This is my burden, not yours,” Dorian said, tipping his chin up proudly.

  
“Yeah, but, us weirdos, we gotta look out for each other, right?” Sera jabbed her fist into Dorian’s shoulder, and he could help but give a weak laugh.

  
“Yes, I suppose so,” Dorian nodded, giving her a fleeting appreciative look.

  
“That’s the spirit,” Bull exclaimed happily, throwing an arm around Dorian, making the man sag under the added weight.

  
Dorian grumbled, but didn’t pull away. Despite the cloud still clinging around him, he was grateful to have _friends_ , his heart swelling with warmth as Sera and Bull  laughed and chattered on either side of him.

 

\---

  
  
Despite all of Dorian’s plans to drink himself silly in the tavern, he ended up becoming a bit of a recluse for the next few days after arriving back at Skyhold. The rows and rows of books were a comforting distraction, and it gave him a chance to do some much-needed research for the Inquisition. His time was mostly spent between his barren quarters and his alcove, reading until his eyes were dry, taking enough time after waking to make himself presentable, forgoing eating because he wasn’t sure he could muster up a fake smile for all the visiting ambassadors that were currently touring the grounds.

  
After the Inquisitor stopped by for apologies and explanations, after they expressed the fact that they thought he was _brave_ , Dorian collapsed into his chair again. He draped an arm over his face, hiding behind it and hoping for a little respite. It was too much. He wasn’t brave, he was _scared_. He’d fled to the south in the first place because he was terrified of what his father had become, what he could become. He was still scared now, worried that his fate was inevitable, that no matter how far he ran and how good he tried to be, it wasn’t going to be enough for his father and wasn’t going to be enough to change anything. Despite having realized he was actually making friends, he was afraid of being alone, the feeling welling in his chest as the world grew darker outside.

  
Shaking slightly, he pushed himself up from the chair, willed his feet to move. Keeping cooped up in the library wasn’t going to make anything different. He’d been reading the same books again and again, mind wandering back to Tevinter and his father, not letting him really get much work done. Seeing a few familiar faces and drinking a few mugs of Cabot’s swill might break his foul mood.

  
Upon arriving in the bar, Dorian was startled as a cheer rose up from the corner that Bull occupied. He started slightly, eyes flying to the group sitting there. Sera was sitting on Bull’s shoulder, Blackwall next to them, and the rest of the Chargers gathered around. Bull and Sera had their mugs raised, and everyone was staring at Dorian now. His eyes found Krem for a moment, the man actually _smiling_ at him, and his heart skipped a beat. He cleared his throat, took a step forward, and then another, until he was standing next to their table.

  
“Look who finally crawled outta his cave,” Sera teased, offering up her mostly-full mug. Hesitantly, Dorian took it, and the table hooted again.

  
“I figured it was due time that I grace the world with my presence again,” Dorian shrugged, jutting out one hip to show off the fine shape of his body, before tipping back the mug.

  
“Sit!” Bull ordered, gesturing at the vacant chair among them. It placed Dorian across from Krem, who smiled at him again, raising his own mug towards the man. Dorian nodded, downing more of of the drink.

  
Dorian let himself relax, sit back in the chair, laugh at the other’s antics. He still felt strange, disconnected and faraway, but this was much better than sitting alone in the library feeling sorry for himself. Knowing he wasn’t exactly in the mood for jabs or verbal sparring contests, they mostly let him alone, refilling his mug when it was emptied, clapping him on the shoulder occasionally.

  
“Heard what happened with your dad,” Krem said quietly as the others sang something vulgar that had Dorian’s nose crinkling in mild disdain.

  
“Ah, word travels fast,” Dorian muttered, wondering when he’d start hearing the Inquisition soldiers talking behind his back.

  
“Wanted to extend my apologies,” Krem continued, his face looking solemn, “I know how rough it can get when you and your parents don’t see eye to eye.”

  
Dorian furrowed his brow, taking guesses at the kind of abuse Krem might have suffered through when his parents tried to “ _fix_ ” things, make them “ _easier_.”

  
“I appreciate it, Krem.”

  
“Don’t stay cooped up in your little nest for so long next time, huh?” Krem suggested, smirking slightly and nodding towards the others, “Got Sera all worried, grumbling about arrows and Magister’s arseholes. Think Bull was jus’ about ready to head up and drag you down here. Might want to let Cole know you’re alright, too, if you get a minute.”

  
A blush rose on Dorain’s cheeks, surprised by how many people who were (supposedly) concerned for his well being, surprised by how _Krem_ seemed to care and take notice of the going-on’s revolving around Dorian. That warmth that Dorian was growing used to connecting to Krem welled in his chest, tingling and strange and almost aching, but in the best of ways.

  
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dorian smiled back at him, relaxing and deciding to enjoy the rest of the night, especially if it meant being in Krem’s company.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me here! Want to see anything special in this series? Let me know! thekingofcarrotflower.tumblr.com/ask


End file.
